Qualm
by MadamePlume
Summary: The tenth chapter is here! Almost a year has passed now. How have things changed? How have they stayed the same?
1. Mark's Qualm

DISCLAIMER: Jonathon Larson PWNS!

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"Roger, _please_!"

"Get OUT!"

Mark stepped out of the bathroom in time to see a teary Mimi running out the door. Roger was standing in the doorway of his room, massaging his temples.

Mark spoke hesitantly "You okay, Rog?"

"No."

"Oh… well, uh…" Mark trailed off, not sure how to speak to Roger. When he gets in his moods, he's mostly a lost cause.

"If you knew that she was cheating, you'd tell me, right?"

"Well, yeah, but Roger I honestly don't think she'd-"

"Then where is she? She won't tell me where she goes!" he punched the door.

"Roger she told you she was visiting her mother today."

"Bullshit!" Mark turned his back on the guitarist.

"I'm going to Life Support. You should come." Roger scoffed, and Mark heard the bedroom door shut. He sighed; it had been 6 months since Mimi's brush with death and it had taken only three for her to be forced by Roger back into the place she was before. He was getting tired of hearing the fighting, but more than that, he couldn't stand to hear Mimi sobbing night after night.

Mark, at least, knew how much she loved Roger. Mark, at least, knew that Mimi had never so much as looked at another man. As much as Roger was Mark's best friend, he didn't approve of the way he treated his girlfriend.

The filmmaker decided to walk, instead of ride to the Life Support meeting. Mimi wasn't there. A wave of disappointment washed over him; he had wanted to talk to her.

When the meeting was over, he walked the busy streets, occasionally taking his camera out of his bag to capture various moments in time. One day, he knew, his films would be the only company he had. He heaved a great sigh, and pushed open the door to his building. In the stairwell he could hear Mimi sniffling and he stopped to picture her large brown eyes swimming with tears. She would be sitting on her kitchen counter, swinging her legs aimlessly and wiping the small droplets of water dripping from her nose into her lap. To his own horror, he was pulled out of his daydream when Mimi opened her door; he had walked forward and knocked on it without thinking.

"Mark," her eyes were red and puffy "what are you doing here?"

"I just, uh… are you okay?" his eyes refused to stay in one place, flicking from his feet to her eyes and back again. She smiled gratefully, and stepped to the side.

"I'm okay. Do you wanna come in? It's kinda messy but I'm sure you'll live. You've never seen my place, have you?"

"Once, from outside." He stepped in and Mimi rolled the door shut.

"You can put your stuff down wherever."

"Thanks." He set down his camera carefully on the floor as Mimi headed into her kitchenette. He found himself wanting to pick it back up and film every inch of her apartment; to capture this side of Mimi that he wasn't likely to see much of. She reappeared with two sodas. They sat on her old, busted up couch. She pulled her knees up to her chest and Mark's own legs suddenly felt awkward and stupid, useless and ugly just dangling there. "It's a nice." Mimi rolled her eyes.

"It's a shithole, Mark." He blushed furiously; he had wanted to be polite. But why? He's known Mimi for a long time and there's no real need for the polite niceties people put up for mere acquaintances. "But thanks, I like my shithole." She shifted in her seat to place her soda can on the small, black, cluttered coffee table, "I don't even have a bedroom door…" she gestured behind her. Mark noticed the beads hanging in the place of a door.

"You could probably get that fixed."

"I've got nothing to hide." Mark's mind was filled with images of Mimi sleeping and dressing in that room. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and guzzled his soda. "Did you go to Life Support?" Mark nodded, his throat burning from the bubbles in his soda. "I didn't feel like going."

They sat talking for a while, and Mimi finally got to her feet and stretched after a small silence between the pair. Mark found his eyes on her exposed stomach, and his cheeks flushed red once again. "Well, I need to get ready for work," Mimi said as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, "do you mind?"

"No, I should probably go anyway."

"Yeah, Roger's going to start accusing you of sleeping with Benny if you stay much later." She stepped forward and hugged him, then pressed her forehead to his. Mark held his breath, not comfortable with being so close to her. "Thanks for keeping me company," she said, and kissed his cheek. Mark reached for his camera, head spinning, and headed home. When he reached his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and cursed himself. He had to stop this. He couldn't love her. She was with Roger. She loved Roger… but she deserved better…


	2. The Turkey Baster

A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed! Here's the second chapter… I hope you all like it and please let me know if there's anything I can improve!

I've taken some things from my RPG on the IMDb RENT board. This is quite likely to happen a lot because I intend this to be a Mark/Mimi fic and the RPG is Mark/Mimi. I love the way it came about in the RPG so I'm going to recreate it the best I can.

So anyway, here goes…. (ahahaha I totally didn't even mean it like that!)

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Two weeks later, Roger sat on the window seat with his guitar, brow furrowed in concentration. His sandy hair fell into his eyes and he flicked it out again, letting out a soft grunt as he took a pencil out of his mouth and scribbled furiously on the piece of paper in front of him. He didn't look up when Mimi entered.

"Hey, Roger," the dancer headed over to him.

"'Lo…" the pencil was back in his mouth.

"Want me to come back later?"

"Could you?" not even then did he look up to see the hurt in her eyes; she had wanted to spend some time with him but found that he barely wanted to spend any time with her besides being in bed.

"Okay, I'll be at home if you change your mind."

"Yeah, bye."

"Wow girl, you look great!" The exclamation from Collins made Roger finally look up at her. She had apparently gone to a lot of effort to look nicer than usual for Roger. Her hair was loose and flowing, her eyes seemed brighter and her lips looked full and red. Her clothes, though not particularly tight, hugged her curves and highlighted her brown skin. Roger's breath was caught in his throat for a second.

"You look pretty damn good yourself, Collins!" she giggled, hugging him tightly. They hadn't seen each other in a few weeks, and it was easy to see how close they had grown since Angel. "What?" she raised an eyebrow at Roger, looking over Collins' shoulder.

"Nothing. You look nice."

"Thanks, Rog." She smiled softly and then headed over to the door. Collins caught her wrist.

"Where you goin'?"

"Oh, I'll catch up with you when we go out tomorrow."

"What? Where?"

"The Life, Rog. We're all going." Mimi was only a little surprised that he didn't remember.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Punk!"

"Shut up, Collins."

"Baby, come with us…"

"I need to get this out!"

Mark emerged from his room, having heard the whole thing. "You need to take a break."

"Collins needs a drink, Mimi needs to stop sleeping around and _you_ need to get laid. Now if we're done talking about what each of us needs, I'm going to-"Roger's head snapped up from his notebook when he heard the door slam shut. Mimi had left. Mark was looking, as always, like a guy who really didn't want to be where he was at the moment; Collins however, glared angrily.

"That was not cool."

"Shut up, Collins."

"You know what, boy?" Collins stopped when Mark grabbed his arm, but still managed to mutter as he walked to the fire escape "I'm never buying him Stoli again…"

Mark couldn't help but chuckle at his friend.

"Okay, Collins…"

"And if he's not coming, then you're drinking with me!" he called after Mark, who was trudging back to his room, as he lit up a joint.

"Fat chance of that happening!" Collins jumped, and then looked down to see Mimi climbing up toward him. "You know you've always got me to get drunk with." She grinned, but Collins could tell she'd been crying. He put his arm around her.

"Here," he passed her his joint, "we're sharing this." Mimi sighed happily.

"You love me…"

"You're damn right I do."

The pair sat on the fire escape smoking joints until Roger went to bed. They giggled and stumbled their way back into the loft, and Mark, disturbed by the giggling, came out of his room.

"Are you guys stoned?"

"Psssh NO! Whoa!" Collins tripped over Mimi, and pulled her down with him. They were all arms, legs and riotous laughter for a few minutes, Mark just watching amusedly, then laid together on the floor. He tried to hold a conversation with them, but gave up when Mimi told a story almost entirely in giggles, aside from her finishing "And then- and then you said 'Maureen, that's not a thermometer, that's a TURKEY BASTER!'" she roared with laughter, beating her tiny fists on Collins' chest. Mark laughed along with her, because although he had no clue what she was talking about, her laughter was infectious. He loved seeing her smile. It wasn't very often that she smiled lately but he adored the way it lit up her face, and the way her nose crinkled. He pulled himself out of his thoughts of her, and stood to leave.

"Are you guys gonna get up?"

"Probably not." Mark threw them some cushions. "Thank you, Markie!"

"You're welcome, Mimi…"

"We looooove you!" Mark shut the bathroom door behind him, and leaned against it sighing.

"Yeah… I love you, too."


	3. An Eruption of Emotion

A/N: Okay so this is where things start to get interesting... I actually wrote the ending to this scene first and worked my way back. I feel like a real author saying stuff like that...

Anyway, I hope you guys like this... please review if you read it!

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The next day, Roger wandered into the kitchen without noticing the two friends sleeping on the floor together. He fixed himself a mug of coffee, and when he sat at the kitchen counter, his eyes were drawn to the huddled mass on the floor.

Collins was splayed out on his back, snoring gently, and Mimi was curled up beside him with her head on his chest and her hand grasping his shirt as if she never wanted to let go. And that was the truth. It had been so long since she had slept so well, with someone's chest to cuddle into, knowing that she was safe and that she was loved. The pair had never pursued anything but friendship, but they loved each other as intensely as any would expect of the most adorable couple. As they both wept and fought to live on without Angel, they clung desperately to each other and their respective experiences with and stories about her.

Roger did a double take and stomped his way over to them. They slept on. He nudged Mimi with his foot, until she stirred and finally woke.

"Oh hey, Rog…" she stretched, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"What are you doing?" she was taken slightly aback by his abrasive tone.

"I'm waking up…"

"In Collins' arms!" the anarchist was startled out of his sleep, and when his body jerked, Mimi earned herself a hard whack in the stomach.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, baby girl."

"Baby girl?"

"Can you _relax_? You know as well as any of us that Collins is gay!"

"Whoa, what's going on?" Mimi stood, seething.

"I'm getting accused of sleeping with you!"

"There's no accusation about it! I SAW YOU SLEEPING WITH HIM!" she narrowed her eyes further.

"You know what I mean, Roger."

"Okay I think that we should all have some coffee and some Cap'n Crunch." Roger and Mimi both shot angry glares at Collins, "and then Roger, you can get your guitar and we'll sing a happy round of Kumbaya!" Mimi managed to crack a smile but Roger headed over, grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet.

"You think you can distract me with your stupid jokes?" Collins shoved him away.

"What have I told you about getting physical with me?"

The two argued and shoved each other, and Mimi slipped silently away. She had to get Mark.

Mark's room was dark when she entered, but she could make out his figure curled up in his bed, which was only slightly bigger than her own. As she approached, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw him in more detail. His glasses were on a stool, which served as a nightstand, and his hair was tussled. His camera was laid on the floor next to his makeshift nightstand, and Mimi considered for only a second picking it up and filming him but the idea of his reaction stopped her before she even began to act. She knelt beside him and, seeing the small frown on his face and without thinking, reached up and caressed his cheek. He sighed and rolled over, and Mimi smiled. He looked almost too peaceful to wake, but Mimi was brought back to the reality of the situation with a crashing noise from outside the room and she nudged Mark gently.

"Mark…"

"Hmmwhat?" he rolled over again, and pulled the covers over his head.

"Honey wake up, I need your help."

"Mimi?" the clarity of his voice indicated that he had woken up.

"Yeah, come help me. Collins and Roger are fighting." She pulled the covers down and passed him his glasses.

"Can you gimme a minute? I'm a bit… naked." Mimi smirked and headed back out to the chaos, amused at the knowledge that Mark slept in the nude. She didn't think him the kind of person to sleep naked, but the idea of it didn't bother her one bit.

Mark managed to break up the argument between Collins and Roger, but he didn't come out completely unscathed.

"Roger, when I went to bed they were just laying there. They'd had a few joints and really couldn't get up." Roger turned on his best friend.

"You knew?"

"Roger it's not like they would have been physically able to do anything and besides I think you're forgetting that Collins is gay"

"Collins is outta this place. I'll be with Mo if you wanna talk, Meems…Mark." And Collins left.

"Well you of all people know how fast someone can change their sexuality."

"Do you _have to_ mention that every day?"

"What, you're _still_ not over it?" Mark's face flushed this time not with embarrassment, but with anger.

"I don't like it shoved in my face every day!" Roger and Mark stared each other down, and a bewildered Mimi stared from one to the other and back again as if she were at a very frightening tennis match.

"So go hide your face behind your camera, Mark… I have bigger things to deal with." Fury filled Mark's eyes with hot tears.

"You have bigger things to deal with? What have you got to deal with that's any bigger than what I have to deal with?"

"You fucking know what I deal with!"

"Oh, right, you've got AIDS." Roger was taken aback by the mockery of his disease. "Well let me tell you something, Roger… I deal with your disease, too. I deal with Collins' disease. I dealt with Angel's disease…" He choked up "and I deal with Mimi's disease. When April died I had to deal with it, too! _And _I had to deal with you through your withdrawal which you probably don't even remember!" Roger started to argue, but Mark cut him off "You have never, not ONCE thought to consider what I have to deal with, have you? Of course you haven't! I'm just nerdy, hopeless little Markie who Maureen dumped for a girl! It's funny, isn't it? _Nothing _compared to what Roger's been through! Roger's got his dead girlfriend, Roger's got his disease, and Roger's got his girlfriend who is CRAZY ABOUT HIM but whom is - in Roger's crazy imagination - having an affair with the landlord who took his precious fender from him a year and a half ago! Yes, Roger, I might hide behind my fucking camera but I have to learn to deal with things my way and by myself because in the end I'll only HAVE myself!"

Mark stood trembling with a mixture of anger and adrenaline and Roger stared in shock. The rocker finally spoke up.

"Look, I never thought that you needed-"

"That's because I learned not to! I _don't_ need you! I don't need ANYONE!" and Mark stormed into his room. Collins, having heard the noise from the street, re-entered and was almost knocked over by Roger who was storming out to the roof with his guitar in hand. Mimi dropped onto the couch and held her head in her hands. Her beeper went off, but she ignored it. Collins gave her a few minutes, and then sat beside her.

"Take your AZT, Mimi." she swallowed the pill dry. "What are you gonna do?"

"I need to talk to him…" she rose, and to Collins' surprise, walked into Mark's room.

Gently closing the door behind her, Mimi found herself tip-toeing to Mark's bed. He was on his stomach, clearly crying, with his head buried in his pillow. She sat next to him and soothingly rubbed his back. "Are you okay?"

"Go away, leave me alone…" Mimi withdrew her hand for a moment, shocked and hurt by Mark's dismissal, then reached over to stroke his hair. Mark took comfort in Mimi's touch, but stupidly insisted that she leave.

"I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're going to be okay."

"You'll be stuck here forever. I'm not okay. I haven't been okay for a long time. I won't be okay for a long time." His words, though muffled by his pillow, were as clear as day to Mimi; and her heart broke at the thought of Mark having to live with so much pain every day.

"Well if I have to stay here forever, then so be it. As long as I get bathroom breaks, I'll be fine." She continued to stroke his hair for what must have been hours, until the sound of Mark's steady breathing filled the room. She managed to slip his glasses off his face and maneuver his body to be under the sheets without waking him, and although she was tired, she still didn't want to leave him alone. There was only one way around that problem and with Roger back home, it wouldn't be easy…

Mimi emerged from Mark's room and without a word to Roger, headed into Collins' old room. Roger followed.

"What are you doing?" he enquired as he saw her picking an old pillow up off the floor.

"I'm getting a pillow," Roger frowned in confusion, "I'm sleeping in Mark's room tonight." She finished, matter-of-factly.

"Over my dead body."

"Chill out, I'm making a bed on the floor." She gathered a couple of blankets.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Roger snorted, following her back into the living room. Mimi turned on her heel and faced him.

"No, I'm not. You really upset him, Roger."

"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can handle it." Mimi placed her things on the couch and pointed an accusing finger at her boyfriend.

"That sort of attitude from you is what's brought him to this in the first place, Roger! You're supposed to be his best friend!"

"And you're supposed to be my girlfriend!" Mimi threw up her hands, turned her back on Roger and gathered her things again. "What about my feelings? He upset me, too!" She turned to face him once more. Her brown eyes stared hard into his piercing green ones. He looked upset, but for the first time, she didn't care.

"You're a big boy Roger. I'm sure you can handle it." And, ignoring Roger's angry shouts, she headed into Mark's room and shut the door behind her.


	4. The Little Grabber Monkey

A/N: Okay so I just want to thank everyone who's been reviewing and reading the story! I wasn't expecting such warm acceptance! My inbox has been inundated with messages telling me people have put me on alert lists and I'm so flattered… THANK YOU!  
Anyways, I hope Roger is going to redeem himself a bit, but I really don't control what these characters do… they just flow… I let my fingers do everything. It's like my brain is communicating directly with my fingers and has eliminated the middle man… which would be my consciousness… so I have no idea what's going to happen… but I think he's going to be a bit better.

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It was about 5am when Mark woke. His room was pitch black and he sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching for his glasses with the other. Even after he had put them on, he could barely see a thing. He definitely couldn't see that Mimi was asleep on the floor beside him, and he hadn't even realized that someone else must have pulled the covers over him.

He pushed the covers down and took his shirt off. It was hot and his throat felt dry; he needed to get some water. He got out at the far end of his bed so that he could open the window and padded into the kitchen for his drink. He took his time, looking around the loft as he sipped. The light from the kitchen revealed a strange figure in his room and he decided to investigate, which would be difficult because he had to turn the light off and try and figure it out in the dark.

When he reached his room, after stumbling a little over a pair of shoes, he reached down and prodded the figure. It was soft, and it moved slightly under his fingers.

"Mimi…" he breathed, remembering her promise not to leave him alone. _She slept on the floor for me…_he thought, feeling slightly guilty for telling her to go away. Gently, he lifted her into his bed and smoothed the covers over her tiny frame. Mimi sighed and clutched his arm and Mark smiled down at her. The sun was now beginning to rise and with the little light that shone into the room, Mark could just see her. Sleep highlighted Mimi's youth. In many ways she was youthful no matter how much she insisted she was old for her age – reckless, a little arrogant at times, and she felt invincible at her best (at her worst, she became very aware of her mortality) – but at that moment Mark was more aware than ever of the young girl that lived inside her; the fifteen-year-old girl with big, bright eyes who ran away from home to be a dancer in the Big City. She held onto Mark's arm as if it were the pillow she brought with her… the one Mark knew was still on her bed downstairs; the one she couldn't bear to part with. Her tough exterior was broken down and all that remained were her soft, child-like features.

He moved to pick up his camera, but Mimi let out a whimper and dug her fingers into his skin; she didn't want him to leave. He wondered for a moment if she was awake but her deep, steady breathing suggested otherwise. He slid underneath the covers with her, and she immediately shifted herself so that her head was resting on his chest and her arm was draped around his torso. Mark was almost too terrified to breathe; what if she woke up and got mad? What if she thought he had been taking advantage of her?

As if the constant stream of questions flowing through Mark's mind had been too loud, Mimi woke. She looked confused for a moment, then looked up at Mark and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi," he remained perfectly still as he was unsure how to move, "uh… I didn't- I mean, I felt bad because you were on the floor and I was going to get up but you grabbed me and…" he trailed off, and Mimi let out a small laugh.

"Did I?"

"Kind of…"

"Sorry, it's a bad habit I've had ever since I was a baby. My father used to call me his 'little grabber monkey'." She smiled at the memory, and Mark relaxed. "Thanks for putting me in your bed. The floor was pretty hard."

"Thanks for staying with me." She hugged him and kissed his chest.

"You're welcome. Feeling better?" Mark's head was still spinning from the kiss when he answered, "Much. Thanks."

"You should try and talk with Roger today." Mimi sat up and stretched. Mark watched her closely, and noticed her sleeve fall off her shoulder. He put it back in place, but his hand lingered too long and Mimi closed her fingers over his. "You should probably avoid doing things that'll get us murdered." Mark hastily removed his hand, feeling incredibly stupid and blushing. Mimi turned to face him. He went to apologize and explain, but Mimi silenced him by touching her fingers to his lips.

"Don't worry about it. I've known for a while." Mark gave her an embarrassed look.

"You have?"

"What? You don't think I notice it when someone's staring at me?" he began to look increasingly like a tomato and Mimi chuckled, "Will you stop worrying?" she noted that he found the floor suddenly very interesting, and lifted his chin so that he was looking at her.

She hadn't been lying. She had known for a very long time about Mark's feelings for her. Many times she felt his eyes on her, undressing her, always so adoring. Of course she loved the attention – when didn't she? – and knew that if he were aware of her knowledge, the looks would stop, so she never said a word. After a while, it became more than just enjoyment of the attention, however, and Mimi began to long for the next time she would feel his adoration wash over her. The truth was that she was attracted to him… dangerously attracted to him… and she had been for about a year now. But she did love Roger, and so she thought nothing would ever come of their mutual attraction until now. Now, she wasn't so sure if she could ignore it. Mimi brushed his cheek with her finger, Mark drew his breath sharply. She had an air of hesitance about her and she kept glancing downwards at his lips. He remembered having that very same feeling and doing the very same thing when he was thirteen. His brain screamed at him to get up and stop this before it went too far, but something else far stronger was keeping him cemented in his place. Before he could come to a decision, he felt Mimi's lips pressed against his own. He returned the kiss and she relaxed into him, raking her hands through his hair and crawling into his lap. Mark broke the kiss, but Mimi swiftly turned her attention to his jaw and earlobe.

"We can't-," he managed to pant, "We can't do this, Mimi." She placed her hands at either side of his face and studied his face carefully. "We can't." he said, more firmly this time.

"Mark… baby, please…" Mark found the sound of her pleading surprisingly arousing and he moved slightly to hide the fact. Mimi shifted in his lap with a mischievous glint in her eye – she had obviously felt his arousal – and began kissing his neck. She took his hands and placed them on her waist, but he withdrew them.

"Mimi stop… please… please… don't…" an unexpected moan passed through his lips and he began to run his hands through her untamed curls "Oh God… please don't stop…"

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A/N: Okay so Roger didn't even feature… sorry, guys… Like I said, I don't control anything here…


	5. Try Not to Fall Over

A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews. Special thanks to FelineMimiDavis74, who is putting up with my story despite her dislike for Mark/Mimi. I appreciate it, seeing as I don't ever really bother with fics that have a pairing I don't like. Let's see where my fingers lead me this time…

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Mimi and Mark were lost in their own world. Outside, the streets were filling with people; inside, they laid on Mark's bed kissing, caressing and exploring each other. Mimi loved discovering what turned him on, what tickled him, what made him gasp and stifle his moans with a pillow. Mark loved being able to make Mimi feel good, he loved the idea of making her feel like the goddess he thought she was and he just plain loved _her_. Every inch of her. He worshipped her. He kept telling himself that this was all a dream and that he'd wake up soon and have to take an extremely cold shower; he would walk out of the bathroom to see Mimi in one of Roger's t-shirts and she'd greet him with a smile and a cup of coffee as always.

But in the back of his mind and deep down in the depths of his soul he knew he wasn't dreaming. He really was in his bed with Mimi and she really had her hands on him, and he really had his hands on her and, _oh my god…_he thought, _we really had sex just before with Roger sleeping in his room next door_.

"You look like you've seen a ghost" Mimi took his hands and kissed them, "Are you okay?"

"What are we going to do, Mimi?" Mark felt a lump forming in his throat, but it quickly dissolved when she smiled.

"I kind of like what we're doing now…" she curled up closer to him and ran her hands across his bare chest, planting tiny kisses on the trail of fire her touch left on his skin. He swallowed hard, desperately willing himself to talk his way out of the situation.

"But… I mean about… oh Jesus… I mean about Roger." Mimi looked up at him from where she had been kissing a path down to his crotch. "What are we going to do about Roger?"

"Well… what Roger doesn't know won't hurt him." The thought of being part of an affair sickened Mark, and he launched himself out of the bed leaving Mimi's naked form exposed. She drew up into a sitting position and pulled a pillow into her lap to cover herself, frowning. Mark pulled his clothes on and began throwing Mimi's clothes to her.

"You have to go."

"What?"

"This was a mistake. You have to go. Right now…" Mark was gathering up the discarded condom wrappers off the floor, "Please."

Mimi was wordlessly dressing. _Doesn't even forget his manners when he's kicking you out of his room. That's Mark for you. _She kept her head down, like she normally did when she was being dismissed after a one-night stand, but this time she felt tears burning in her eyes. She didn't expect this of Mark. Especially not after the way he was with her.

"Sorry," she whispered, not able to fully find her voice, "I'll just…" she scooped up the blankets and pillow she had used on the floor and turned to hurry out, wiping hastily at the tears that had escaped and slid down her cheeks.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. He'd only ever heard her speak that way once before; when Roger slung his belongings over his shoulder and prepared to leave for Santa Fe. He watched her bent over, and pretended not to notice that she was crying, but her eyes met his for a mere moment as she turned to go and he saw how hurt she was, and he couldn't let her leave like that.

"Mimi, wait." She stopped but kept her head down. He walked over and lightly caressed her arm. "I need you to understand." Silence. Mark sighed. "Mimi, I can't do that to him. I can't do that to anyone. Do you know what it's like to come home to your partner and know that they've been with someone else? It tears you apart. And you don't want to leave. You can't leave because no matter what, you still love them and you become so desperate to show them and find a way to make it better… because of course it had to be your fault they strayed. I've been through all that I can't do it to someone else. I'm sorry. I think you know how I feel about you… and this isn't easy for me… but I don't think we should – well, I mean maybe we should avoid seeing each other. We've gone too far." Still not a word from Mimi, but he could see that she was trembling. "I'm sorry, Mimi."

"Is that all?" her voice seemed cold; she had put up her wall.

"This was a mistake." Mark paused, "That's all." Without a word, Mimi left his room, dropped the linen on the couch and swept out of the loft. Roger was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and looking confused at his girlfriend's departure.

"What the hell was that about?" Mark turned on Roger.

"Why did you let her stay?"

"What?"

"You let her stay in my room! I said I wanted to be alone!"

"She does what she wants, Mark. She always has. Is that what this is about? She's pissed because you weren't poring over her with adoration for her compassion?" Mark said nothing. Roger took his silence as confirmation. "She'll get over it." Mark looked at him. "I'll make it up to her later, man, don't worry." Roger winked at his friend and Mark forced a grin.

"I'm gonna take a shower" _to wash the smell of your girlfriend off my skin._

"Have fun with that. Try not to fall over." Another one of Roger's jokes about Mark's lack of a sex life. If only he knew.


	6. The Seeing Eye Dog

A/N: I know I normally update once a day, but yesterday I learned that one of my friends committed suicide so I wasn't particularly in the mood for writing. Hopefully things will get back to normal from now on, but no promises.

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It had been a week since the incident with Mimi, and Mark hasn't seen her at all. It was obvious that she had taken him very seriously because she often called the loft and soon after, Roger would disappear down the stair to see her. Mark desperately wished that he could talk to Mimi about what had happened and to try and re-establish some sort of friendship with her; Roger was getting suspicious about what had really gone on that morning.

"You must've really pissed her off, man." The rocker said, climbing in through the window. He smelled of sex, and Mark felt a sharp pang of jealousy. "You know she doesn't want to come out drinking tonight? Mimi. Not drinking," he paused for effect. "When I asked why, she just said that you know why and that's all that matters. What the fuck did you say to make her so upset?" He wasn't angry, just exceedingly confused. As far as Roger could remember, the pair had always gotten on really well. He knew Mimi adored Mark, because she had told him so, and he knew Mark had been very fond of Mimi from the start… at times he felt Mark was a little _too_ fond of her. So to see the two of them not talking – not even so much as _looking_ at each other – really hit hard. He looked up at his best friend, awaiting an answer.

"I dunno, Rog."

"You always say that. You must've done _something_." Mark just shrugged. This annoyed Roger to no ends.

"Fine. You two go on being all secretive and just fucking shut me out!" he stormed off to have a shower. Mark went back to editing.

Down in Mimi's apartment, the dancer sat opposite Collins, painting her nails.

"I'll never get sick of that colour," he said, motioning to the bottle of electric blue nail polish. Mimi smiled.

"I should hope not. Actually, I'm running low… I'll have to start hunting for some more."

"Hmm… so, uh, are we gonna just sit here making polite conversation or are you gonna tell me why you're not talking to Mark?" Mimi went to answer but Collins raised his hand to silence her. "No more bullshit answers, I want the truth, Mimi." She told him the whole story. Collins' jaw was hanging so low that she thought it would detach, but he didn't interrupt.

"So then he just freaked out, and he told me that we should avoid seeing each other…" Mimi's eyes burned, and Collins offered a consoling hug. "I'm okay!"

"Like hell, girl… just tell me something," he stared hard into her eyes, "were you really going to cheat on Roger?" Mimi thought hard – she had asked herself that very question so many times in the week that had gone by and had never really come to an answer. She had found herself being more caring, and far more active sexually with Roger since that morning, but she knew the relationship was really just the same as always and that it was only the guilt driving her. She and Roger had lost their spark and more than once she had to stop herself sneaking into Mark's room; she yearned for the warmth and tenderness he had shown her, but for once she exercised her self-control and did as Mark asked.

"I don't know, Collins. At first, maybe, but I would've broken it off eventually."

"That's probably why he flipped."

"Because he doesn't want to be with me?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?" they laughed, shaking their heads at each other.

"I mean that Mark probably felt like he was going to be used. He could tell you would've ended it with him."

"Whoa, hang on, I didn't say that."

"What, you mean you would've broken up with _Roger_?"

"Yes!"

"Oh… oh! Well that's different." They sat in silence for a little while. "You don't live him anymore, do you?" Mimi shrugged.

"I'm not sure he ever loved me, that's all."

"But last Christmas-"

"That was different. He was scared. You were all ready to profess undying love for me."

"That's because we all love you."

"I know that. But what's so different about Roger's love?"

"It involved lots of sex?" they dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Well… Mark's proved to be more than adequate in that department." Collins made a rather immature noise, and Mimi threw a cushion at him. "I need your help, you dickhead!"

"Mimi," he sounded serious so she leaned forward, "I want you to be happy. I also want my boys to be happy. Someone's going to end up hurt here."

"I know."

"You need to talk to Mark."

"I know."

Mark helped support Roger as he stumbled into the loft. It was about 2am and the best friends had been out with the gang, minus Mimi. Roger had every intention of going to her, but Mark advised against it because Roger was blind drunk.

"…And I want you to know that I love you, man."

"Okay, Roger," he chuckled, "I love you too."

"But I still want to get laid."

"Just sleep it off, Rog. You can get laid tomorrow. Here, take this." Mark passed him his AZT. Roger washed it down by sticking his mouth over the tap in the bathroom sink.

"You're my _best friend_."

"I know, Roger."

"You're like a Labrador, and I'm a blind man. You help me lots and stuff."

"Go to bed, Roger."

"Goodnight, seeing-eye dog!"

"Goodnight, Roger." Mark splashed some water on his face, and then headed into his room. He stripped off and climbed into bed. His heart gave a jolt when he felt something move beside him. He reached over and switched on his lamp. Mimi gave a groan and rolled over, rubbing her eyes. Mark swore under his breath. "Mimi, what are you doing here?" She sat up, cursing.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to talk to you and I fell asleep." He pulled the covers up around himself tightly.

"What about?"

"You know…"

"Okay…"

"I just want you to know that… I really wanna be with you." Mark tried hard to keep himself from dancing, but then remembered Roger.

"What about Roger?"

"I don't know."

"I told you I'm not having any part of an affair, Mimi."

"I know."

"You can't have us both." Mimi nodded sadly. He could see that this was hard for her, and felt a little guilty for being so blunt with her. "Have you even thought of him at all?"

"Of course I have." Her head was bowed. She looked so upset, and Mark wanted to kiss her more than ever. He wanted to scoop her up and make her feel better. "I thought you'd be happy about this…"

"Mimi…"

"Mark, I'm trying to tell you that I love you." The filmmaker couldn't breathe. _She loves me…_ "I want to know that you're going to be there for me if I end it with Roger." Mark tried to find his voice, but all he could muster was a strange kind of squeak. He nodded his head. Mimi moved closer and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss with such passion and such force that Mimi gasped. He peeled her clothes off and moved her gently until she was beneath him. Mimi reached up and ran her hands through his hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	7. Two Generous Cups of Vodka

A/N: Sorry for another delay. I'll make it up to you. I think I may write another chapter tonight for you all. Anyways thanks for the ongoing support and please keep the reviews coming

* * *

Mark woke with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Mimi was pressed against him, her long legs coiled around his own, and her fingers resting lightly on his hand. He had promised himself that this would never happen again – for Roger's sake – but once he'd heard Mimi's voice saying the words that he's wanted to hear from her for so long, all of his sense walked out the door leaving only his love, longing and desire for her. Mark gently freed himself from underneath Mimi and pulled on some boxers. He looked back at Mimi's slender form; her curls were splayed out on the pillow and one of her breasts was slightly exposed. Mark closed his eyes, remembering how they had felt against his skin – to him, she was perfect, and it was almost as though she had been made for him. He let his eyes roam the rest of her body and felt himself grow excited as he thought back to the previous night's lovemaking.

He had been on top – a difference to the last time – and Mimi had gasped and moaned the very second he had entered her. Mark could still feel where she had run her nails down his back and the sounds of her pleasure were ringing in his eyes, driving him crazy. He gave a start when he felt her hand close around his.

"What's the time?" she asked, sleepily.

"About seven-thirty." Mimi groaned.

"Get your ass back in here. You shouldn't be out of bed at such an ungodly hour." Mark was pulled down beside her, despite his attempts to scramble away.

"Mimi, don't-" but it was too late, as her hands were already on him, stroking him and pulling at his shorts. "Mimi, please…" he tried to push her hands away, but she was persistent and Mark grew angry. "Will you lay off?" he snapped, pulling his shorts back up. Mimi apologized and shifted away from him slightly, sensing that he wanted some space, which Mark appreciated. "What are we gonna do about Roger?"

"I'll take care of it. I promise…" Mimi hesitated, "I love you." She was scared that she had imagined his response last night, especially seeing as he seemed angry with her at the moment. He didn't respond at all this time, instead sat up and pulled a t-shirt over his head. "Mark?" _Maybe he didn't hear me…_

"Yeah?" _Or then again, maybe he'd ignored it._

"Nothing." He looked over at her; she was toying with the sheets.

"You sure?" she didn't meet his eyes, but nodded. "Okay."

Mark hadn't said anything because he felt too damn horrible for doing this to his best friend. He wasn't even sure if he'd want to be with Mimi anymore if she broke up with him – it felt like it would still be a kind of betrayal and Mark didn't want to make things worse – Roger was likely to take the breakup very hard, but he wasn't sure how to tell her.

* * *

A few hours later, the explosive breakup had come to an end, and Mimi was forcefully shoved out of Roger's room. Mark stayed in his own room hoping she didn't come, but he soon heard a soft rapping at his door. He opened it in case it was Roger, and saw Mimi, whose hands were full of things she had given Roger, that he obviously didn't want anymore. He reached out and took some of the stuff, lightening the load for her. Without speaking, he helped her carry everything to her apartment. When they were done, Mark turned to leave.

"Can't you stay?" Mimi's voice was small and timid. He didn't face her.

"I wanna see if Roger's okay."

"Will you come down here later?" it wasn't a proposition, but Mark was a little hesitant. He turned and noticed something strange in her expression: fear. She looked hurt and lost and terrified. Mark felt sick. He went over and pulled her close.

"Look… I'm thankful that you didn't mention me in there. You have no idea how much it means to me… but… I don't think I can do this, Mimi."

"What do you mean?" the fear had made its way to her voice, now.

"Us. I can't do it."

"Just for now, right?" Silence. "Or not ever?"

"I don't know." Mimi said nothing. Mark could feel her trembling, but desperately needed to make sure his best friend was okay. "I've gotta go… will you be okay?"

Mimi nodded and Mark left. As soon as the door shut, he heard her crying.

* * *

"Go away, Mark."

"Just let me in," Mark pleaded, "I have food… and Stoli." The door clicked; Roger had unlocked it. "My hands are kinda full, Roger." He opened the door. _He looks like shit… This is all my fault._

"Thanks Mark." Roger had obviously been crying, but Mark didn't draw attention to it. He poured two generous cups of vodka, and threw Roger a bag of chips.

"How are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

"I'm fine. I don't need her." Roger's voice was unusually harsh; he was forcing it. Mark didn't say anything. "She was sleeping around anyway." Mark had never felt more uncomfortable in his life – he stared at the floor and downed his Stoli in one, causing him to choke. Roger sensed his discomfort and grew suspicious. "Do you know something?" Mark was still coughing, but shook his head. "Liar. You know something."

"I don't!"

"Mark…" Roger dipped his head, trying to achieve eye contact with Mark. Throughout the many years they had been friends, Roger could always count on one thing: Mark was a terrible liar. Mark sputtered, still avoiding Roger's eyes and turning a nice shade of scarlet. "Mark, tell me." Taking a deep breath, Mark confessed.

"Me."

"You, what?"

"It was me. She slept with me." Mark shut his eyes tight, as though waiting to be punched. Roger burst out laughing and patted his shoulder and Mark nearly died of relief.

"Christ that was good, Mark! You had me going for a minute."

"Yeah…" Guilt washed over Mark yet again, and he poured Roger another Stoli.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Mark stood in the doorway having a frantic internal battle over whether to go to Mimi. He looked over at Roger's door, thinking of how he had spoken about Mimi in his grief. 'Stupid bitch', 'Good-for-nothing', 'Lousy whore'. Mark had to hold back his anger for the sake of his friend, but once or twice reminded him that he was just upset, and that Mimi wasn't any of those things; that she had loved him. He stopped himself also reminding Roger that he was the one who had pushed her away. Meanwhile, Mark knew Mimi was sitting in her apartment waiting and hoping he would come. He remembered the sound of her crying, and felt a sudden compulsion to see her.

But he remained standing looking between Roger's door and the stairwell, and when he thought back to the previous night when Roger had called him his seeing-eye dog, he made his decision. He turned and went into his room; Mimi would have to wait.


	8. The Ragdoll

A/N: So this is that second chapter that I promised would come tonight. This one doesn't have much dialogue, which is a change for me. I'm actually quite proud. Anyway here's hoping you all like it!

* * *

Mimi avoided the eyes of the dealer on the corner. She picked up her pace, praying he had finally given up hollering at her every time she walked by.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Mimi kept walking. "You'll be back!"

Every time she was near him it was the same thing; he told her she would be back. She never went back, and never planned to, though times had been hard for her lately.  
It had been a month since she had broken up with Roger, and despite his promise, Mark hadn't been there. He hadn't wanted to be with her after the whole ordeal, and she missed him so much that her entire body ached. Collins had been great – going back and forth between the two apartments and just being there for everyone. She only went upstairs if he was going to be there, too.  
The couple of times she had been at Mark and Roger's, she sat with her head bowed. She felt Mark's eyes on her, kind and concerned; and Roger's, cold and angry. She wondered why she bothered, but remembered that she had gone for some time with Collins and for some kind of attempt at normalcy in her life. Every day presented a challenge for Mimi, lately. Get up, try to eat, have a cigarette and watch the sidewalk for Mark, get dressed, try to keep busy until work, work, go home, and try to sleep. She knew she had lost weight in the past month, which could lead her to get sick, but didn't know how to prevent it other than trying to eat more. The problem wasn't that Mimi _didn't_ eat – she would eat if she had an appetite – but the fact that she couldn't stomach her food. She felt herself on the verge of deep depression.

She turned the corner into her street and looked up at Mark and Roger's apartment. It was a particularly hot day; the window was wide open, and the two men sat with drinks, legs dangling. Roger noticed her and pointedly looked away, Mark was fiddling with something she couldn't see – she had never felt lonelier. Once home, she stripped down to just her panties and a tank top, and sat outside eating a Popsicle, earning her a few catcalls from the street. As much as it sickened her to admit it, she actually relished in the catcalls; they gave her some sort of reassurance that there wasn't anything wrong with her – she was still the kind of girl that men wanted. The fact neither of the men upstairs wanted her wasn't anything to do with her. It was them… Wasn't it?  
A scuffle started on the street between two homeless men, both of whom seemed to think that the slice of pizza that had fallen on the sidewalk belonged to them. Mimi heard scrambling from above, and soon after Mark appeared to be filming the fight, which was now being broken up by a couple of police officers. He eventually moved his gaze upwards and caught Mimi's eye. She smiled sadly and gave a small wave of her hand. He returned the wave, feeling horrible that Mimi looked so down. He often heard her sobbing at night, unaware if she was awake or if she was simply crying in her sleep. Heading back upstairs, he considered going to see her, and stopped at her door. He hadn't really talked to her in a few weeks, and wanted to know if she was okay; to know if she was getting on alright alone. If he'd have had it his way, he would have been calling her every four hours to make sure she was still taking her AZT but Roger wouldn't have approved and he was going through a hard time himself. Roger came first – wasn't that the reason why he'd never tried to make anything out of his feelings for Mimi in the first place? Now he knew Roger was still getting over her, and didn't want to rub salt in the wound. It was hard for him, especially seeing as he noticed Mimi was so cut up. She had gotten thinner and paler. He was worried, and so decided to knock on her door.  
She looked surprised when she found him there and Mark was disappointed to see that she had put some more clothes on before opening her door. She didn't let him in, but leaned against the doorframe, eyes darting from his eyes to the floor and back again.

"Can I come in?" Mimi nodded, moving aside for him. Mark stepped in and immediately he noticed that the apartment was in immaculate condition. This was odd, considering Mimi always said that she better knew where things were when her place was cluttered.

"You never came over." Mark looked at her, slightly confused.

"What?"

"After you went to check on Roger," she still wouldn't look at him for more than a second, "you never came over." Mark didn't know what to say – had she sat in here waiting for him for a month? Even after he told her he didn't know if she could be with her?

"Mimi, I… I mean, I told you that I wasn't sure." It was his turn to stare at the floor this time. Mimi perched herself on the couch and hugged a cushion. "You've gotten thin."

"I'm not very hungry lately… I've missed you." Her voice cracked, and Mark shut his eyes; her pain was killing him. He had never wanted to hurt her and here she was, unable to eat and unable to even look at him. He sat beside her.

"How've you been?" Mimi shrugged, toying with the tassels on the cushion. Mark took her hand; it was cold despite the hot weather. She stared at their entwined fingers, and finally got up the courage to look Mark in the eye.

"I've been lonely… really lonely." It wasn't that long ago that Mark was in a state of utter loneliness, and he was sympathetic. His breakup with Maureen had left him feeling like a rag doll that had been tossed out a window and run over a few times. By the look of her, that was how Mimi had been feeling. He lightly rubbed her hand with his thumb to let her know he was trying to be there for her.

"Have you been taking your AZT?" the question slipped out of his mouth, and he regretted asking it the second he finished. She would surely be defensive.

"Yeah. Thanks for asking." Mark sighed, took the cushion away from Mimi, and held his arms out to her.

"C'mere." She climbed into his lap and nuzzled his neck, letting tears fall freely from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Meems. I'm so sorry." Mimi covered him with tiny kisses, her soft hands sliding down his arms and grasping his hands. Mark's feelings for Mimi came flooding back to him in an instant, and Mimi must have sensed it because she rather boldly leaned in and murmured, "I love you, Mark."

"I love you, too. I'm never leaving you again." They both jumped as an angry voice came from the doorway, which had been left open.

"What do you mean, again?" Roger stood, arms crossed, awaiting an answer.

* * *

A/N: Oooooh cliffhanger! Dun dun DUUUUUUUN! 


	9. Chocolate Spirals

"What do you mean, again?" Roger repeated his question, his voice low. Mark instinctively pushed Mimi away, and she fell to the floor with a loud thud. She quickly got to her feet.  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, mirroring Roger's angry body language.  
"I saw Mark walk into the building but he never came home." Mark's heart sank. Roger had been worried about him, only to find him in this position. Roger turned on him. "It was when she slept in your room that night wasn't it?" Mark nodded solemnly, and Roger turned his gaze to Mimi, "and that's why you two stopped talking to each other?"  
"Yes." Mark replied for her, but Mimi added quickly, "Roger, it was because Mark felt so bad about it. He told me it was a mistake and that we had to avoid seeing each other… to stop it happening again." But Roger wasn't really listening. He was controlling his breathing, and glaring daggers at Mark.  
"You're supposed to be my best friend." He sounded as if he was about to cry.  
"I know, Roger."  
"Roger, please-" he rushed at Mimi yelling at her to shut up, and Mark shielded her from him. Roger snorted.  
"You two deserve each other. The traitor and the whore." And with that, he left. He didn't speak to Mark again for three days.

A loud banging in Mark and Roger's apartment could be heard from Mimi's bedroom. The new couple stared curiously upwards."What do you think he's doing up there?" Mimi asked, showing slight concern for the angry rocker.  
"I have no idea. He's only just started grunting at me. I think I actually preferred it when he said nothing at all." Mimi gave a sympathetic groan, and she kissed his shoulder. "At least he hasn't snuck into my room and broken my camera." Mark cringed at the thought.  
"He wouldn't do that, Mark.  
"He'd be well entitled to." Mark sighed. He didn't think he'd ever be okay with what he did, even if Roger had done equally bad things in the past. That was the past, and this was now. He had betrayed his friend… twice. He felt Mimi's arms wrap around him from behind and her soft, warm lips on his shoulder blade. Her touch was electric, and goose-bumps sprung up all over his body. Mimi smiled, loving the effect she had on him, and continued to kiss and nibble his skin. Every thought of Roger melted away when Mimi's hands slid across his chest and she clutched at his shirt, wordlessly willing him to take it off. He spun in his seat and allowed her to lower and then straddle him, her hair forming a gorgeous curtain of chocolate spirals around their faces.  
"You should bring your camera down here so he can't get to it if you're really worried."  
"I'm not that worried."  
"You should bring it down here anyway." Mimi's gentle insistence roused curiousity in Mark.  
"I don't get time to film anything when I'm with you, Mimi." He pointed out. Mimi smirked seductively and trailed her fingers up his thigh.  
"You could film me…" she purred in his ear, making him tremble.  
"That's very tempting."  
"My suggestion?" she asked "Or this?" she ran her fingers up his thigh again. Mark swallowed hard. Mimi bit her lip and went to work. Roger's antics were forgotten.

Roger's coffee had gone cold. He tipped it out in the sink and held back a smug look as Mark practically tip-toed around the kitchen. He was certain that if he listened close enough, he would hear Mark formulating a way to begin a conversation, and decided that maybe today was the day he would give up his game of "let's torture Mark with guilt". Things got boring easily without anyone to share them.  
"Going to work today?"  
"Oh! Uh, yeah… yeah, I am." Mark squeaked.  
"You wanna do something tonight?" he asked, passing Mark his mug. Mark filled it with piping hot coffee, and passed it back to Roger.  
"I, um… yeah, okay. What did you have in mind?" Mark had plans with Mimi, but would cancel them for this – she'd understand.  
"Let's get the gang together… Mimi, too."  
"Are you sure?" Roger nodded. "I'm sorry."  
"I don't wanna talk about it anymore, Mark."  
"Okay… so should I-?"  
"You can tell Mimi, but I'll make the other calls."  
"Okay. I'd better go now, then." Mark hoisted his bag up on one shoulder and his bike on the other and headed out. He stopped at the door when Roger called out to him.  
"I'm sorry, man." Mark smiled.  
"I know, Rog."  
Within hours, everything was fine again in Alphabet City. Mark and Roger were back to being best friends, Roger was decent enough to Mimi, Mimi and Mark didn't have to hide anymore, and the other bohemians were happy just to have their friends back on speaking terms with each other.

* * *

A/N: I know this was short and crappy, but I've had writer's block and this was all I could come out with… bleh… it's horrible. I'll try harder next time. 


	10. The Disco Dancers

**A/N:** Hey guys! I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've been really busy but now I'm sick so I have some time. I don't know if this story is going to last much longer, but I already have thoughts for a new one. It might not be Mark/Mimi, but I don't plan on making Mark go it alone if you know what I mean...

* * *

**Almost one year later…**

Mark and Roger were strolling back home when they heard it. Music. From speakers. Coming from their building. Now there weren't many tenants in their building, so there was a huge chance that it was in one of their places. Roger placed his bet that it was at Mark's – who now lived with Mimi, Mark bet that it was at the upstairs apartment where Roger now lived with Collins.  
"There's only one way to find out, Roger." They picked up their pace, both of them holding back the urge to run, and pushed open the door. Once they established that the noise was definitely coming from one of their apartments, there was a frenzy scramble up the stairs. "I knew it! It's at yours!"  
Neither of the men knew the song, but they both kind of recognized it as an old disco song. They slid the door open. Mimi was dancing around in her underwear with Collins. The pair watched in silent amazement and amusement as Collins and Mimi shook and bopped along to the music. They bumped hips, held hands and swayed with each other."Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah BABY! My heart is full of love and de- hey, babe!" Mimi squealed mid-dip, and bounded over to Mark throwing her arms around him."What's going on?"  
"Collins got us this new thing! It's a CD player, look!" curiously, Mark went over to what looked like a boom box. Roger however rushed over and took it in his hands, causing the CD to skip.  
"Hey, put it down, you're hurting it!" Mimi cried incredulously. Roger ignored her, and pressed stop.  
"I've heard about these things! This is amazing!" Collins chuckled.  
"I knew you'd like it."  
"I like it, too!"  
"It really is something, Collins." Mark agreed with a nod of his head. "This place is gonna be ten times more fun with that thing around." Noises of agreement sounded from Roger and Mimi, and Mark turned to her. "Meanwhile, what are you doing dancing around like that? You need to take it easy." He told her, concern taking over the happiness in his eyes. Mimi's face fell.  
"I was just having some fun…" Mark ignored her and turned to Collins accusingly. Collins raised his hands in surrender and gave him an apologetic look. "Don't blame Collins!"  
"I'm not! Mimi you need to rest or you'll – I mean you're gonna… please just promise me you won't overdo it, okay?" Mimi nodded slightly, and Roger looked away as Mark kissed her.

In the past year, Mimi had grown sick. She'd been given only a few more months, but was still her usual vibrant self. In fact, one might argue that she'd grown even more vibrant after being told she was dying. Mark wanted her to go to hospital for proper treatment, but she waved off the idea telling him that she just wanted to keep going and going until she couldn't go anymore. He had to respect her wishes, but would crush up various vitamins to slip into her breakfast whenever he had the chance. Mimi sometimes suspected that he was up to something but decided to never bring it up, knowing that he would only ever try to help.

Mimi's illness was starting to take a toll on Collins and Roger, as well. Whenever one of them would see her in a coughing fit, they watched in fear and fell strangely silent as if they were afraid that she would be mad at them for talking while she was so sick. The truth was that Mimi just wanted everything to be as normal as possible before it happened. She wanted to keep living as she lived before she found out, but wanted to try and make better choices for herself. She decided that every choice that she made in her everyday life would be the choice that she really wanted. If she wanted to have burritos for dinner every night until the day she died, she would. There was no room and no time for her thinking that maybe she might want a bit of variety. If it was burritos she craved, burritos she would eat.

As Mark led Mimi back home to rest, she questioned him about where he had been that day. He didn't tell her. Mark had been out all day with Roger picking out an engagement ring for Mimi. Roger hadn't wanted to go at first, but didn't want to admit that it was because he still felt for the beautiful dancer, so he changed his mind and accompanied his best friend. They went from jeweler to jeweler, trying to find something that jumped out at them as the perfect ring for Mimi. After taking a break for lunch, they came upon a shop neither of them had ever noticed before that day. As soon as they looked in the window, one particular ring jumped out at them. It was white gold with five diamonds. The jeweler described it to them as a marquise cut diamond with four pear-shaped diamonds set on either side. To Mark and Roger, it looked like a butterfly, and it looked just right for Mimi's hand.

Mimi settled in on their couch, and Mark moved the ring box from his pants pocket to the pocket in his jacket, which was now hanging on a chair. Tonight wasn't the night. Their anniversary was approaching, and he had big plans. Smiling, he sat next to girlfriend and thought of how she would hopefully soon be his wife, even if it would only be for a little while.


	11. AN

Hey guys, I'm taking a break from this story for a while.

Please check out my new story "The Washing of the Water"!

I was thinking about it and my brain just went "SPLEEEEEEE!" with words and ideas.

So I'm sorry to those of you who have remained loyal to Qualm, but it has to take the backseat for now.


End file.
